Page 92 of Pucking Them
My breathing sounds too loud, and I am horrifyingly aware that I am the only one who is naked.
The two players hold me flat against the back wall.
In the silence, Wilder simply studies me. “I have no idea what my Birdie sees in you.”
“Then you have no taste.” I tilt up my chin, defiantly. “You know that I don’t need to report you. You’ll have been caught on the security cameras entering our locker room.”
“Will I?” Wilder’s answer is too smug.
My blood chills.
Why hasn’t anyone already come in here to help me? How did the three players get past security?
Shivers race down my spine.
My teeth are chattering. “Who is helping you?”
Wilder laughs, leaning in the stall doorway. “You piss off a lot of people, Jude boy.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap.
“It’s what our college team called you. Someone in the Bay Rebels thinks that you deserve reminding of your place as much as I do. You’re acting like you’re so much better than me now, huh?Everybody hates you.You’re a mouthy asshole. Did you forget that?”
Bad, bad, bad.
I shake my head, spraying the players with water who are holding my arms.
They tighten their grip, bruising me.
Wilder pushes himself closer, grabbing me by the chin to force me to look into his eyes.
I consider spitting on him, but he doesn’t deserve even my spit.
“Is this bringing back happy memories, Jude boy? It’s only a shame that I didn’t bring a wooden hanger. I was always creative with that and your balls. The rides on the team bus were fun when we had you?—”
“To kick around becauseyoulost? Because I was always the highest scorer. You were the fuck-up.”
Wilder stares at me like he can’t believe that I dared talk back. At college, I didn’t. He was the son of elites. I was the sole scholarship student who couldn’t risk his place on the team.
Wilder knew that, and he used it against me.
But he’s not going to do the same now.
“This is assault and battery,” I say. “Congratulations on destroying your own career. Enjoy jail.”
“It’s your word against the three of ours.”
“My word and thebruisesas evidence.”
“I thought that you were tougher than this. You know coaches hate distractions. Make this a thing, and we’ll come for you harder.”
“Fuck. You.”
“You’ve forgotten that I know about your kinks, Jude boy. I’d simply tell a court that those bruises came from your rough play with Shay. You’re open about your relationship with him, right? Don’t you reckon that a traditional judge would suspect your dynamic as being the cause? Judgeyou? How do you think a pretty boy like Shay would cope in jail? I’d say that you were framing me because of our history and in revenge because you’re now dating my ex-wife. What type of scandal would that create? Do you want to drag them into this?”
He refuses to look away, reading the answer in my eyes.
I can’t allow Robyn or Shay to go through that. I can’t risk either of them.
